


Happy Accidents

by MartianSquid



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Accidental Sex, Drunk Sex, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-01
Updated: 2017-01-01
Packaged: 2018-09-14 00:26:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9148657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MartianSquid/pseuds/MartianSquid
Summary: Sebastian wakes up with an unexpected guest.





	

Sebastian woke with a hell of a headache. Fucking Sophia’s wedding, why’d the reception have to be at a _bar?_ Furthermore, why did Moran always have to remember too late that he didn’t have any fucking self-control? Especially when mourning such a fox being taken off the market — just remembering was enough to lament not having a cocktail on hand.

_God_. He groaned, barely able to remember anything past the sixth shot of Jaeger, which was already after his second porter. _Or was it the third?_ Sebastian supposed it didn’t matter. All that mattered right now was _water_ and all the aspirin he could stomach.

Or he _would_ , if he weren’t suddenly frozen in bed. Trying to sit up, he immediately noticed there was an extra weight in the bed, the mattress not quite dipping as it should. Alright, so someone was there, score for his drunk self. But now he had make accommodations for his guest, and try and remember her name and-

_Oh_.

He’d turned his head for a potential peek at breasts and… found his boss. Jim freaking Moriarty. The man who’d once told Moran “not to get any ideas” about him. And to be fair, that warning wasn’t entirely unnecessary — the man had nice angles, a confidence about him that was-

This… couldn’t possibly be good.

What was Sebastian supposed to say? _It was an accident? Was too drunk to make good decisions? Whoops?_

_Yeah. Whoops. That’ll fix everything._ Sebastian sits there, stunned by his own moxie, in what could possibly be his last thoughts. Well, he was a dead man anyway, not much he could do to prevent that. So he stretched out, then curled around his diminutive companion.

“Sebastian…” Jim murmured, an air of scolding in his sleepy voice, squirming in his arms to get comfortable.

Alright, maybe getting cuddly was going too far. Swallowing, Moran leaned in to hear him better, “Yeah, boss?”

“Go start the coffee pot.”


End file.
